


A Brewing Storm

by Ieatvampiresforbreakfast



Series: Storms, Wolves and Stags [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Baratheon Sister, Betaed, Eventual Romance, F/M, House Baratheon, House Stark, In like chapter 10, Mystery, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Present Tense, Robb Lives, Romance, Season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-07 03:50:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4248279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ieatvampiresforbreakfast/pseuds/Ieatvampiresforbreakfast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A storm is brewing in Westeros, in the center of the intrigue and danger is Velena Baratheon, the King's sister. The death of Jon Arryn has set in motion a chain of events that threaten to destroy her and the family she fought to protect.<br/>She may be the King's sister but safety is not guaranteed and to save those she loves she may have to become the very thing she hates.<br/>19 Chapters currently written.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Storms on the Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the names, characters, plot or places in this story. They all belong to GRRM and HBO, except for the few that I created. I don't make any money from writing and publishing this.
> 
> A/N: This story is a mix between the TV show and book.

Prologue:

My eldest brother has always called me his little doe. My next oldest brother calls me by my name, my full, unabbreviated name. My little brother calls me Ena. I am Velena Baratheon, first of my name, sister to a king and aunt to a prince, still not a wife to a lord, but that, I have to say, is a great relief. It is not for my brother's lack of trying, since he became King, Robert has attempted to marry me to almost every bachelor in Westeros, and even a few in the free cities, none of them have got very far and I am only two-and-twenty. There is no need to hurry.

Of my brothers I like Renly best, it is probably my motherly instincts. Since our parents died that fateful night it was always me that looked after Renly. Robert was too busy training with his hammer and then plotting against the Mad king, Aerys Targaryen. Stannis never had room for weakness of any sort, much less a crying boy, wanting to know why his mother and father weren't coming back. So, it was me that Renly came to for comfort when the night brought dreams of pale faces and hands reaching out of the water, gasping for air.

This never changed.

Robert went from strength to strength and defeated the Mad King, then as time went on his penchant for food and wine and whores grew to a sickness. Stannis remained as stiff and unforgiving as iron and Renly grew to manhood and became a brilliant warrior, a warrior, but still a sweet summer boy, untouched by Winter's chill.

* * *

 

The bells have been ringing out all day since Lord Arryn of the Vale, Warden of the East, Hand of the King passed into the care of the Silent Sisters. In life Jon Arryn had many titles, but to us Baratheon siblings he was our father in all but name. Especially for Renly and I, who never really knew our parents very well, he was the one we modelled ourselves after.

The sun is now descending fast on the narrow sea, the dark water being stained a crimson red. As the bells toll again I see seven black shapes dart across the rose tinted sky, I follow their flight until they begin to break apart. There are only seven ravens because Lady Arryn is still in the capital. Two go south to Storm's End and Dorne, three begin to turn West evidently bound for Highgarden, Riverrun and Casterly rock. A single raven goes East to inform Stanis, who recently left the capital for Dragonstone. The last raven goes Northward, to the Starks where this news will be worst received, just like Robert, Ned looked up to Lord Arryn. I fix my eyes on the Northbound raven, I know that it carries news of more importance than just the death of the Hand: in a matter of days the King and much of his court will begin the long journey up the Kingsroad to Winterfell. It is my brother's wish to pin that accursed badge on Lord Stark.  _Why him?_ I ask the Gods. Eddard Stark is too good, too honour-bound for a place like King's Landing. This city claimed the last Hand and I worry that he will be bound to the same fate.

A cool breeze blows in off the sea, causing goosebumps to run up my arm, I don't dislike the feeling, in fact I rejoice in it, it reminds me of the windswept landscapes and swirling storms of my homeland. I have rooms in the Red Keep, very nice large rooms, my brother spared no expense either with the decoration or furnishings. No matter how much he spends on Myrish carpets, costly silks for curtains or brightly coloured tapestries King's Landing will never be my home. I was raised to be bold, strong and unrelenting just like the land of my birth, not cunning and calculative like the people here. To be completely frank, I hate the capital, it is a den of snakes and lions with spiders attentively listening and mockingbirds twisting the truth before I've even finished saying it.

My handmaiden, Bettanie, also from Storm's End, joins me at the balcony, I am thinking but I don't mind her presence. Bettanie is the same age as me with dirty blonde hair and an easy smile. She loops an arm around my back to comfort me, she knows how hard this week has been. I stare out to sea, on the edge of the horizon I can see a storm brewing, by morning I anticipate that it will be striking the cliffs of the Stormlands.

"All storms pass, Lady Velena." she soothes. I nod, she is right. This matter with the death of Jon Arryn will one day be done and I will recover, but in the mean time we must hold strong and stick together. I am made to outlast this, the blood of the Storm Kings flows in my veins, but I can smell it in the air and feel it in my bones; this will be a long and brutal storm.

 

* * *

 

I am woken early by Bettanie drawing open the curtains to reveal another bright Crownlands day. The weather does not improve my mood at all, I want to stay in bed and hibernate until everything blows over,  _Robert is King, you'll always be waiting._  I tell myself.

"What's on the agenda today?" I ask as I roll onto my back and shield my eyes from the sharp sun rays.

"Packing and a dinner with the royal family." calls Bettanie from the bathroom where she and three other servants are drawing me a bath, two of the other women are from King's Landing but the other one, Larra is from the Riverlands I think.

"I'd rather face each of the seven Hells than seven courses with  _that lot_." I sigh into a pillow. Eventually I summon the strength to crawl out of bed, I stumble over to the side table by a bookshelf and just finish pouring out some wine when Bettanie snatches it off me. I let out a dejected whimper and try to grab it back.

"No!" she reprimands. "I'm not having you perpetually drunk and with a beer belly like your brother." My handmaiden is the only person that I know who will openly ridicule people like the King. I groan and let her lead me over to the bath. I take off my sleeping gown leaving only my linen night shirt. The other woman sprinkles some lavender bath salts into the steaming water. I sit down in the tub, letting the warmth sink into my skin.

"We are taking your wolfhound, sword and bow, and three of your winter cloaks, ten underskirts, ten wool dresses, five silk, five cotton. Four sets of furs. Two pairs of leather boots, five slippers, all jewellery and one headdress-"

"No." I cut into Bettanie's list. "I'm not going to wear one of those ugly things."

"Fine, no headdress. You wish to bring your leather leggings, surcoat, and tunic?"

"Yes." I reply, noting how she doesn't even raise an eyebrow any more.

"Your boiled leather armour is also coming, is it not?" she adds, ticking off her list when I nod.

I am no average lady, packing only dresses and trinkets, I believe that most of it is due to having three brothers and no woman who bothered to reprimand me for my unladylike behaviour. To a degree I think Robert actually encouraged me to get dirty and run around with stick swords, battling Renly for Storm's End. I'm packing the armour because it is very likely that there will be a fair few hunts while we stay in the North and the other castles on the way there and back.

I use a soft sponge to scrub off the sweat and dirt that accumulate when you live in a constantly hot and dirty city and allow Larra to comb through my long black hair and gently wash it with soap and a cloth.

The day passes slowly as me and my ladies carefully fold my clothes and stack them into my trunk. Over the course of the day my room becomes emptier and emptier as the trunks get packed. All too soon it is time for the dinner with my family. Of the dresses that I haven't packed I pick a teal coloured one with gold thread embroidery of antlers around the collar. The sleeves are close fitting up to the elbow where they fall away to reveal my bare arm, at that point they have bell sleeves that are lined with a more expensive brocade, the brocade is also visible in the layered skirt that is open at the front. It is high waisted in contrast to the more fashionable low waisted dresses of King's Landing. It once belonged to my mother. My hair is twisted artfully into a bun by one of the King's Landing girls. It is a simple look but the one I prefer to the ugly exuberance of the other women. Just as Larra has finished dabbing some perfumed oil around my neck I hear a knock at the door.

"Sister, it's time for dinner." calls Renly from behind the door.

"Yes, I'm coming." I call back. I can tell from the look in Larra's eyes she wants to add some red to my lips and powder my face but I push her away and head for the door. Renly is impeccably dressed as usual, in his green that matches his eyes, I have found that lots of people dress to match their eyes, it is something that I rarely do. It would draw too much attention to the ugly discrepancy in the colouring of my eyes, due to that I hardly ever wear bright blue or lilac.

"Was packing enjoyable?" mocks my younger brother as we begin to walk down the corridor to the royal apartments, in reply I raise my hand to slap him over the head, he ducks and I frown. "I know you don't want to spend more time with them than you have to, but Robert needs someone he can rely on, I'd go but-"

"You have your duties as Master of Laws, I know." I say still bemoaning how lonely this trip will be.

"Robert is surrounded by two faced courtiers, liars and people who will do anything to gain power, money or esteem, he needs you to add some Baratheon frankness." I grunt in agreement causing Renly to laugh quietly.

"Smile, Ena. You are too serious, you've been smiling about as much as Stannis recently." Renly mutters, turning my face to his.

"There is nothing  _to_  smile about." I say in a completely bland tone.

"Jon was like a father to me too."

"And now he's dead as well just like our real father and mother." _Maybe I should stop caring; that's what seems to kill people, after all._  I continue in my mind. We lapse into silence again until all I can hear is our footsteps on the red rock floor. We follow the well trodden corridors until they open up to the royal apartments. Two members of the Kings Guard, Jaime Lannister and Ser Barristan open the large wooden doors.

Inside the royal family has started without us, I can tell from Cersei's expression that she caused this show of dishonour to us. There is a chair at one end for Robert, who we all know will not be here, Cersei sits on the other, Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella sit opposite where three chairs are laid out for Renly and I, the last chair being for Tyrion, the Queen's brother. I do not start eating when we have said the friendly introductions and taken our places at the table, Renly reaches for some roast chicken but I slap away his hand.

"Wait until Lord Tyrion arrives." I hiss almost under my breath.

"Oh, don't worry about waiting for him. He is only the Imp after all." I turn and look Joffrey straight in the face with narrowed eyes.  _How dare he insult his own uncle!_

"He is your kin." I reply, my voice like the crack of a whip.

"Ah, here comes the little beast." mutters the Queen. As another pair of footsteps is heard drawing nearer. Tyrion's seat is next to mine and has more rungs so that he can climb to the seat more easily.

"Good evening Lord Tyrion." I greet him fondly, he is the only Lannister that I actually like.

"Lady Velena, beautiful as ever." _Liar._  "Myrcella, Tommen best niece and nephew I could wish for, Lord Renly, Cersei, Joffrey." He nods to me and Renly, smiles at Myrcella and Tommen but to Cersei and Joffrey he gives only a dark stare. The meal passes, as all the others have, in near silence with a few awkward conversations, I eat barely anything and wait until I can go back to my wine and my bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be a bit depressing but I promise it gets better! Thank you for reading. Please comment and kudos or whatever (I'm new to AO3) if you think I deserved it!


	2. The North

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make this idea work I have fiddled with the ages so the Stark kids are book age plus three as a rule.

It is now the morning of our departure from King's Landing, I'm wearing a thin dress that is particularly wide in the skirts to allow me to ride more easily. Down in the stables I am readying my grey horse, Storm Chaser, my pet dog named Wolfie is also by my side. I brush down the horse's coat and lay a quilted blanket on its back. On top of this I place my black saddle and strap it on securely, I adjust the stirrups so that I can sit comfortably in the saddle and lead it out into the courtyard, Wolfie follows me out. My clothes and other possessions have already been loaded onto a wagon. I see no other Ladies on horseback, I suppose that the road is too harsh for them.

In the crowd of onlookers I see a familiar face, Renly. He darts towards me for goodbyes.

"I hope that the road isn't too dull and boring."

"The road won't be dull or boring, the courtiers will." I say, Renly frowns and pulls me into a hug.

"Try to be happy Ena." he whispers into my hair.

"I can't. I just can't." I try to hold back tears. "If I'm happy then I'll end up losing it again."

"Everything is going to turn out fine, you'll be back with me soon." I blink a few times to clear my eyes and pull away from Renly.

"I'm supposed to look after you, little brother." Renly looks down at his feet and scratches Wolfie behind the ears.

"We look after each other." I look around and see the Queen's cat like eyes trained on us and a cruel smirk perched on her lips. I turn back to Renly and muster up a small smile.

"Keep well, Renly." I lay my hand on his shoulder and he mirrors me, we used to do this when we were children and pretending to swear an oath of great importance, now it signifies our bond as brother and sister.

"Same to you, sister" I step up the mounting block and push one foot into the stirrup, I swing my leg over and relax into the saddle. With the ringing of trumpets and some cheering and clapping from the crowds of courtiers staying in King's Landing the long procession of mounted guards, wagons, carriages and everyone else begins the long journey North.

 

* * *

 

With every new day the air gets cooler and my heart gets lighter. My worries seem to have been left behind at King's Landing. We leave the Crownlands quick enough and pass through the Riverlands staying at many different inns and houses throughout the journey. I love riding but by the time we pass the neck I am sick of the lonely road, every few hours Wolfie takes a break from walking next to me and sits with my chests on the back of a wagon.

Eventually the mist clears enough so that I can see Winterfell, just an outline really. I can make out squat towers all within an encompassing wall, it is a good sight. this will be our home for a few weeks maybe or at least until Ned Stark accepts the position of Hand of the King. ' _The King eats and the Hand takes the Shit.' Poor Ned._ I contemplate quietly for although we can see our destination it will be a long time before we really reach it. At least the land here is only rising in soft hills and not completely rock-strewn like the Stormlands. I urge Storm Chaser a little faster in order to catch up with my brother, so that we may enter Winterfell together. The last time I saw Lord Stark it was during the Greyjoy Rebellion, I humourlessly wonder if he has grown fat like Robert in the nine years since. I try to neaten up my appearance, smoothing back my hair that escaped it's braid long ago and tugging the skirt down that has ridden up due to the constant movement.

There is an extremely loud clattering sound as dozens of hooves beat upon the cobbled courtyard of the castle. Most of Winterfell's inhabitants are all stood to greet us, at the front of the organised crowd are Eddard and Catelyn Stark with their five children. Ned is how I think the Warden of the North should look, serious and stony but surrounded by a loving family.

Joffrey is the first royal into the courtyard, followed as usual by the Hound, after them comes three members of the Kingsguard then the massive carriage of the Queen's, then me and my brother and the rest of the Kingsguard. I notice that the taller red haired daughter is eyeing my arse of a nephew,  _stupid girl_. She looks like the kind of girl who believes in fairy tales and true love, when she looks at Joffrey she sees a gallant prince, everyone else sees a Lannister coward. All the Northerners kneel as Robert rides nearer. There was once a time when he could easily dismount from his horse but those days are long gone so instead my brother uses a box to step down off his horse,  _poor thing_ , I think,  _I bet it's back is damn near broken._ The King walks straight up to his old friend who rises along with his people.

"Your grace." There is a long pause as Robert surveys his friend's face.

"You've got fat." I just manage to suppress a snigger. The Starks look utterly taken aback until Robert suddenly bursts out laughing and hugs Lord Stark like a brother.

"Cat!" he does the same to Catelyn, who isn't expecting it at all.

"Your grace." she bemusedly mumbles from inside his embrace.

"Nine years, why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?" he roars after he has turned back to Eddard.

"Guarding the North for you, your grace. Winterfell is yours." the Queen now steps down from her massive carriage with a look of boredom and an obviously fake smile. Cersei Lannister clearly believes she is above courtesy and can disrespect anyone she pleases. In order to sustain some affection between these two families I dismount from Storm Chaser and wait for my brother to finish meeting all of the Stark children, the Queen then saunters up to Lord Stark and makes him kiss her hand. The Starks are perfectly gracious, well maybe not the youngest girl who is persistently asking about where "the Imp" is.

"Take me to your crypt, I wish to pay my respects." Ever since my brother met Lyanna Stark he has been obsessed by her, I don't think it is a healthy type of love but it certainly lasted longer than his love for Cersei.

"We've been riding for a month, my love, surely the dead can wait." the Queen says, her tone suggesting that she knows what will happen anyway. The King disregards this and only turns for a moment. He calls his friend over to him and continues walking. Cersei walks back over to her brother and children. I see that this is my time and briskly walk over to Catelyn as Eddard has left for the crypts.

"My Lady." she says as she bobs down into a small curtsey.

"Lady Stark" I reply, inclining my head; we are both noble ladies of around equal standing. "You have a wonderful family." My stomach twists but I suppress it and keep up my appearance of serene happiness. 

"Thank you, you have grown a lot since I last saw you Lady Baratheon."

"Please, Velena will do."

"In that case you must call me Catelyn." I nod in reply and bend down to look at her son.

"He takes after you," I say, looking up at Catelyn, her Tully features are echoed in her youngest son. "What is your name?"

"Rickon." he says shyly. I smile and walk to Robb, he was eleven when I saw him briefly during the Greyjoy rebellion. He has red-brown hair and a strong jaw with much broader shoulders than the had when I saw him last.

"Robb." I say curtly, wondering if he remembers me at all.

"Velena," he replies. "It's been a long time."

"Indeed, I barely recognised you." We shake hands and I continue to the girl.

"You are Sansa, are you not?"

"Yes, my lady." she says looking at her shoes, she looks very similar to Catelyn, but with lighter hair, and the same fine features as her mother, there is not much Stark visible, she stands out among her siblings as the only one not wearing Stark colours.

"and this is your sister-"

"Arya." the other girl cuts in. Where her sister is obviously Tully she is clearly Stark, with brown hair and blunt but not unflattering features.

"Yes, Arya." I confirm

At the end of the line is another boy.

"I'm Bran." he says simply.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bran."

 

* * *

 

 

The Starks are the opposite of the land they inhabit, they are warm and friendly. My introductions are done so I say goodbye and lead my horse to a Stark pageboy and ask for directions to the stables. Storm Chaser has really proven his endurance on this journey. A stable boy offers to brush him down and clean his hooves but I decline. It is the least I can do to look after my horse who has carried me this far. I brush down his grey coat with a wet brush to remove the dirt and sweat from the journey and then again with a dry brush so that he doesn't get too cold. I carefully lift up one hoof at a time and scrape out the mud and gravel. My legs are tired so I wobble slightly as I complete this task, a few "damn"s and "Seven Hells" may have escaped me.

"My Lady, you know we have stable boys for that, don't you?" asks a voice from the stable door. It makes me jump a little as I wasn't paying attention to the outside world. I look up and see Robb Stark peering in.

"Yes I do, but I like to look after my horse." I reply. He steps inside and strokes Storm Chaser's nose. I place the horse's last hoof back on the floor and walk over to Robb.

"He is a fine horse." says Robb as I pat Storm Chaser's neck.

"The King bought him for me when I was fifteen." I explain.

"What's his name?" he asks whilst looking down at me with his piercing Tully eyes.

"Storm Chaser. A good Baratheon name, don't you think?" He smiles and there is a pause for a few moments and then a wide, almost insane grin breaks over my face. 

"Velena, are you sure that you're well?" I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop a laugh.

"Yes," I close my eyes to calm myself. "I merely did not expect that you would be looking down at me. Gods, you were a little wretch once...and now..." The definitely not wretch-like Stark raises his eyebrows.

 

* * *

 

"My mother has requested your presence in the Great Hall." Robb starts again, a more formal tone in his voice. It feels like he is trying to distance himself from the boy that he was.

"Oh, why?" I wonder, hopefully something hasn't already gone wrong.

"I honestly have no idea." I stroke Storm Chaser again and then walk out of the stables. Waiting outside is Robb's dog, it has wolfish features but I reason that it must be a dog because I doubt that a wolf would make a good pet.

"This is Grey Wind, my direwolf." he says proudly, and kneels down to scratch it behind the ear.

" _Your_ direwolf?" I say incredulously.

"Yes, it's entirely tame." he assures me. I bend down and let it smell my hand, it seems to like me as it licks me and allows me to stroke the back of it's head. I walk over to a small bowl of water that a stable boy left for me and use the block of soap next to it to scrub my hands clean. We then begin the walk to the Great Hall of Winterfell with Grey Wind running along beside us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!!!


	3. Winterfell

When we arrive it is revealed to me that all Catelyn wants to do is show me to my room. I seem to be the last guest to be given a room due to my "disappearance" (as she puts it) most people came straight up to the main castle. My room is on the third floor and overlooks the keep. It is by no means small but is not as big as my King's Landing abode.

I was expecting there to be lots of fires around Winterfell to battle the coldness seeping in through windows and under doors, but in fact I do not see a single one. The hot springs that the castle is built over take care of the cold.

"Probably not the grandeur you are used to, Velena." Catelyn says as she opens the heavy wooden door.

"It's perfect Catelyn, thank you." I look out of the window down into the courtyard of servants, rushing to be ready for the feast. "Not to be rude but I expect you are incredibly busy, I don't want to take up too much of your time." I say, conscious of the feast drawing nearer.

"Oh, don't worry my dear, I'll see you at the feast then." she smiles warmly at me and departs leaving me to unpack and change into my dress for this evening. Bettanie arrives soon after and instructs the servants on where to put the clothes chests.

"Bettanie, where is my dog?" I ask, wanting to know where Wolfie has got to.

"She is down by the stables, I think she has a stall of her own."

"Good." I stand up and begin to take the silk dresses out of my first chest, none of them are really suitable for a feast attended by royalty. Finally I find what I have been looking for: A long extremely dark blue silk dress, it is cut off diagonally at the shoulder making a point that accentuates my shoulders, the neck line is a v shape that continues the angular theme of the dress. The really beautiful part of it is the bodice. It is embroidered with many different colours, all moody and stormy, and is a perfect representation of the swirling seas of my home, this wave pattern continues to the skirt but gradually fades away. I spend the afternoon unpacking and getting ready for the feast.

 

* * *

 

As it begins to get dark outside the window I am almost done getting ready, all I have left to do is decide which jewellery to wear. I choose a long silver chain that I wrap around my neck three times. I slide on a silver ring in the shape of antlers and put in sapphire drop earrings. My hair at the front is divided into many braids that all combine into a thicker braid at the back of my head but the rest is left to fall down my shoulders in soft waves. This time I let Lalis use some beeswax and rose oil balm for my lips that has been reddened with essence of some flower and dust my eyelids with a gold-coloured powder. I have to admit that I do feel pretty with my slightly sun-kissed skin and my eyes, even if they are unusual. I used to hate my eye colours, I thought it made me strange until I met a page in Stanis' service who also had two different coloured eyes, one was the most beautiful blue you could imagine, like the sky on a perfect summer day, the other was brown and rich like polished mahogany wood. A knock at the door jolts me from my memories and Larra quickly opens the door. It's a man in the Stark's livery with a clean shaven face but long dark hair.

"Good evening Lady Baratheon. Are you ready for the feast?" He asks in a clearly Northern accent.

"Yes, thank you" I reply and head down to the feast. The jolly music goes from muffled to loud as we get closer to the hall. I make some small talk and learn that he is Jory Cassel and is the nephew of the castellan of Winterfell. We reach the Hall quite quickly and I am a little shocked to see how different the hall looks when it is full of laughter and candlelight. I am shown to a seat on the second row of tables at the top end of the hall, a place reserved for the honoured guests and families of the Lord. Near to me are the oldest three Stark children and their ward Theon Greyjoy. Strangely I don't see Eddard's bastard son. On the other end of the table sits Sansa and a girl of a similar age, next to them is Theon then Robb and Arya and finally me. The top table consists of Lord and Lady Stark, the King, the Queen and Joffrey. The two tables at right angles to these are filled with Stark and Lannister guards and some Stark bannermen. I am the last person to arrive except for Tyrion but it is very obvious that he will be arriving late. As a mark of respect to the youngest Lannister sibling Lord Stark waits before standing to give the opening speech.

"My King and Queen, I hope that you will enjoy this feast. It is a great honor to entertain your royal-" he begins.

"Damn it Ned! Get on with it!" shouts my brother, already pink in the face from beer or wine.

"Yes, my King." he finishes raising his goblet in a toast and sits down again. Immediately servants burst out of the doors and put the main dishes on the tables, the smaller ones have already been laid out such as the cold hams, the bread, pies, cheeses and vegetables. On the top table a large goose is set down, the cooks have kept the skin and feathers of the bird and they are used to copy the real thing, Robert greedily tears into the imitation to uncover the pie beneath. the sound of ripping flesh and feathers is almost sickening so instead I turn back to my table and find a rack of lamb, seasoned with some expensive spices from who knows where. I cut the end one off and quickly start to eat. The cooks in Winterfell know how to season meat. It is packed full of flavours, each one complementing the meat. I hear a disgruntled sigh as I hastily shove more into my mouth. I stop and turn around.

"Good evening Arya." I say, tentatively looking at the girl who is currently glaring down at her food.

"Sansa told me that I was very rude earlier, My Lady, sorry." she says after shooting her sister a dirty look.

"You weren't rude, Arya. Just not particularly polite." I correct, and wash down the lamb with some wine. "Do you want to know a secret?" Arya nods. "People who are always polite are just people trying to cover up how boring they are." the girl looks up at me and smiles.

"My sister is very boring. She likes sewing and talking about Prince Joffrey and telling me that a Lady does this and that…" She trails off.

"I'm a lady but I hardly ever sew and I only talk about Joffrey when I think about what a bad king he will be." I reply. "Just because most ladies are like that it doesn't mean that all of us are. Have you ever met Brienne of Tarth?"

"No" she answers, clearly racking her brain.

"She's a lady, and one of the best fighters in the Seven Kingdoms." Arya beams at this and then starts tucking in to the pile of food she has loaded onto her plate. I turn back to the table and some batter puddings catch my eye, they are made with milk, egg, butter and flour and are a cup kind of shape. I grab a couple and tear one apart, this time I nibble slowly, not wanting to end up with indigestion.

"Do you know how to fight?" Arya asks slowly as if she had been deeply thinking.

"Which type do you mean?" I return with another question, wondering whether I should tell her, I shrug my shoulders realizing that I've probably already encouraged her by mentioning Brienne of Tarth.

"With a sword, or a bow."

"Both, though I have never been in more than a sparring match with a sword or aiming at a target with my bow." She still looks very exited.

"Who taught you?" Arya continues the barrage of questions.

"I was taught alongside my brother, Renly, by our Master at Arms in Storm's End." I continue, I don't really mind her questions and it is nice to be sitting with someone who cares about my opinion. "Anyway, why does Arya Stark, Lady of the North, want to know about fighting?" I ask, trying to make the conversation a little less one sided.

"Oh, it's just fun. I want to be a warrior lady like Visenya or Rhaenys or Nymeria!" she becomes even more animated. "I named my direwolf Nymeria."

"Yes, Robb told me that you all have adopted a direwolf each, its surprising that you found them South of the Wall." I muse, wondering how it got there.

"I suppose."

"The mother was dead, how did she die?" I wonder aloud.

"Jon said something about an antler." Arya replies. She must think that this was just a coincidence, I however have a more pessimistic view, maybe I'm just being silly but this definitely is not a good sign. It is hard to be scared however, in a brightly lit hall full of laughter so for now I try to forget this omen and concentrate on the merriment around me.

Robert has already abandoned his wife in favour of sitting at the lower tables and shouting drunkenly at people,  _how kingly of him._ I turn my gaze on Cersei, she is clearly not enjoying this slight against her as when I look back at my brother again I see that he has wrapped his arms around a rather fat woman who is currently eating his face off. I sigh, Jon Arryn tried, but definitely failed to change my brother's behavior. A few moments later I see a man enter, he is dressed completely in black, a man of the Night's Watch, he bears a striking resemblance to Ned, he has the same prominent brow and nose although has much darker hair. I point him out to Arya and she asks Robb. He confirms that it is her uncle and walks off to say hello.

Over the course of the evening Tyrion arrives, wine-skin in hand, the Queen talks to her possible daughter in law and Robert's face gets redder and redder with every cup of wine he consumes. I have been full for a while now, and the novelty of the crowded hall is wearing off so I decide to say goodnight to Catelyn and the Queen and maybe walk down to the stables to make sure Wolfie is all right. Catelyn is completely understanding and sends a page with me. He takes a lamp and leads me out of the hall. As we draw nearer I hear my dog scraping it's claws against the door. I quicken my pace and the page, Aybe, does too in order to light my way.

"Down, Wolfie." I command and with a little whimper she complies. I slide the latch across and kneel down to stroke her and scratch her on the belly. Her big brown eyes stare up at me and her tail swishes around. With a smile I produce a thick piece of back bacon. She snaps her teeth at me in a playful manner and I lead her out of the stall. With a laugh I throw the bacon up into the night but Wolfie, the clever dog she is, jumps and snatches it out of the air. With a chomping sound my offering is gone and Wolfie nuzzles my torso. She is full grown now and her shoulder comes up to my elbow. I ruffle her shaggy fur and decide that my room is big enough for the both of us. We walk back to the hall and Aybe gives me the lamp and returns to the hall. Just as he is leaving two more figures emerge from the hall. Both of the silhouettes are laughing one much higher pitched, the other a more husky sound. I hold the lantern up and the flickering light reveals Robb and Arya Stark.

"Hello." I say nervously, gripping Wolfie's collar to stop her from bounding up to them.

"Velena!" Arya cries.

"You'll never guess what she's done." says Robb looking down at his sister who currently has a very mischievous look plastered onto her face.

"She set fire to Joffrey's hair?" I ask returning Arya's smile.

"No." replies Robb, with a look in his eyes that says he would love to see that.

"Damn!" I half shout, motioning for us all to go upstairs. "I was hoping it would be that."

"I flicked food at Sansa, she got it on her face!" she laughs.

"Arya, she's your sister you should try and be nice." I say. Robb nods and looks seriously at his sister.

"See you tomorrow," I smile as I reach my door. "and no more food fights, either of you!" I joke and head inside.

Wolfie sits on her tatty old rug that I put next to the bed and falls asleep. I get ready for bed, brushing my hair and plaiting it, then changing into a shift. I crawl beneath the furs, blow out the candle and rest my head on the feather pillow. Slowly I sink into sleep and dream of direwolves and stags and distant thunder.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the way I wrote the Starks. As usual please comment!


	4. Blue and Brown

The dawn quickly swallows Winterfell and I am woken by a chorus of birdsong coming from the Godswood contained within the castle grounds. I lie in bed for a little while savouring the quiet. I have a strange feeling though, like I half remember something, something that is very important. It is so frustrating that Wolfie senses that something is wrong and gets up. I stroke her muzzle and feel my anger ebb away. Bettanie is probably still asleep, when she gets the chance she drinks a lot. She had last night off and evidently made good use of it. Since none of the other ladies came except for Bettanie and Larra I decide to wear something simple that does not require assistance. I opt for leather boots and leggings with cream tunic that comes to halfway down my thighs. Some might call my outfit revealing but I think that little Arya will like it. For my hair I brush and pull it back into a single braid. I dig out Wolfie's leash from my trunk and clip it onto her collar then head downstairs with my dog by my side.

The Great Hall has been cleaned since last night and cleared of most of the tables leaving only the top two which have been pushed together. At the head of the table are our hosts. When I get close enough to not have to shout I ask if it is all right to bring my dog to the table, Catelyn smiles and pulls out the chair next to her in answer. All of the Stark children are present including Ned's bastard and his ward Theon. This time my seat is next to Sansa who keeps looking at me and then turning away as if I am an embarrassment, I look down at myself and then realize it must be because I'm not wearing a dress. The table is set with bacon, boiled eggs, bread and some leftover meats from last night. I help myself to some brown bread and butter then some bacon. The talk at the table turns to a tourney that is happening today between the boys of both families. Robb and Bran are excited, Arya and Rickon are looking forward to watching. I however, know how much of a bad loser Joffrey is and how he is all talk, I've never seen Robb fight but I already know that he will win their sparring match.

Slowly we start to finish our breakfast until it is just Rickon left eating, he clears his plate and I think that he must be done, he is not, he just shovels more smoked ham into his mouth.

"You greedy little pig!" shouts Arya as she dives on her little brother tickling him.

"Arya! Stop that at once!" Lady Stark has a motherly voice most of the time but when her children step out of line it turns harsh. Ned laughs and picks up his son, placing him on his knee. Arya giggles and starts to nibble on some cheese, smiling at her brother. Sansa shakes her head and Jon and Robb share an exasperated look. Then it hits me: _T_ _his is what we should have had,_  I think. My face goes completely blank and I am suddenly aware of how watery my eyes are. My throat closes up and I can't even mutter a quick thank you, I just run out, tears streaming down my face. I angrily wipe the tears off my cheek and keep my head down as I walk, barely noticing how cold it is outside. I hate people seeing my weaknesses. I hate having people's pity. I splash mud around as I stomp towards I don't know what. I guess that I am near the Godswood and it seems like the ideal place to sit for a while and rebuild my defences. Just as I am nearing my destination I look behind me to check if I'm being followed, then I slam straight into something, or rather someone.

"Er...sorry." I say keeping my eyes down, studying the mud splatters on my boots. I sidestep to get out of the person's way and continue walking.

"Wait!" I hear footsteps behind me and I know that they are following me. Like a spooked deer I start to run, I hear the pace behind me increase as well. I don't think, I just run, that has always been my response to problems. I run.

I reach the Godswood and see the silver tree at the centre with it's crimson leaves. I make a beeline for it and attempt to hide behind the thick trunk. Then my assailant comes into view.

I see his face and gasp. If there is anyone I don't want to see me at my lowest it is him. I don't want the future Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North to see me crouched beneath the heart tree, crying like a babe. I shuffle around the tree so that he won't see me but the sound of my movement draws his attention and he looks at me. I bury my face in Wolfie's fur as Robb comes closer.

"I never thought I would see you cry." he says, I chuckle hysterically through my sobs. There is near silence as Robb walks over to me, I hear the creaking of leather as he sits down next to me. There is no escape now, he's seen my tears.

For a while there is silence. I try to stop crying and make my breathing less erratic. I try to stem the flow of thoughts flying through my mind. It's just a whirlwind of Jon Arryn, my mother, my father and  _him._

"Have you ever lost someone?" I ask raising my blotchy tear streaked face.

"No." he answers simply. "I never knew my grandparents or my aunt and one of my uncles...but I know it's been worse for you." I let out a breath.

"It's just after everything that's happened to us, I thought...I hoped that the Gods would stop using us as playthings. People say that Robert was lucky, that killing made him king. They say the crown was a god's gift to him. It wasn't a gift. It isn't a gift. They took what he wanted, the only thing he really wanted and left him wine and food in her place. My parents died when I was two, my surrogate father a few weeks ago, they took…" I don't know if I should continue, I look up at Robb who has fixed his eyes on a tree a few meters away. "I've never told anyone." I whisper so quietly that it is barely audible.

"Told anyone what?" he asks looking at me, I take a calming breath and make myself remember.

"When I was fourteen I met someone, a page at Dragonstone. You have probably noticed my eyes, how they are different colours." he intently gazes into my face. "He had that too, over the next three years we tried to meet each other, when I visited Stannis and when he came to Storms End. Eventually I realized that I loved him." fresh tears roll down my face. "Well, I told him and he said he loved me too. I was going to find a septon, to marry us." I stop, it's hard to keep talking, it feels wrong to keep talking.

"I would never tell a soul, Velena, you can be honest with me." I look into his eyes and I'm completely taken aback by the sincerity and care I see glinting there. I swallow and continue my story:

"B-but Stannis had to go out riding, I forget why. I just remember waving as he rode off with my brother and screaming when he came back...The horse stepped in a rabbit hole. The stupidest thing. He was thrown from his horse and died before I could see him again." Robb pulls me into a hug, I hold on tight like I might lose him if I let go.

* * *

When I have stopped crying the embrace softens enough for me to gently break away, I stand up and cross my arms.

"If you breathe a word of this to anyone I will sneak into your room one night when you're asleep and I will slit your throat."

"Velena, I swore-" he reminds me.

"I swore something too." I reply, looking pointedly at his throat. Then my eyes crinkled in a small smile.

"Will you be well now?" he says more quietly.

"Why shouldn't I be?" I start walking back to the main castle where my room is.

"My whole family just saw you bolt from the table for no apparent reason." this sentence stops me in my tracks.

"Tell them...tell them that I wasn't feeling too well, I drank too much yesterday. Tell them that."

"Very well, but I don't believe that my Lady Mother or Arya will be satisfied."

"Just make it sound convincing, I have a reputation as the King's unbreakable sister to keep up." I shout back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's the back story. The Seven have really got it in for the Baratheons haven't they? I would really appreciate a review even if it is just one word. Thanks for reading! :)


	5. Princes and Lords

I clean myself up when I arrive back at my room, my eyes are still a little red. I sit for a little while with Wolfie. After a while I hear a voice through the door.

"Velena? Are you all right?" it's Arya.

"Yes, I'm fine. I was just a little under the weather." I reply slowly. "Aren't you supposed to be with your Septa?" I ask, trying to change the subject. I smile, noting the agitated noise Arya makes. I stand up and slide the latch across to let her in, she is carrying a tray with bread, butter and cheese on it.

"Yes, but stupid Sansa and that old bat Mordane are dementing me!" she moans as she puts the food on a table and sits by me to stroke Wolfie. "I want to go and spar with the boys but I don't think Ser Rodrik will let me."

"Hmm." I agree quietly, trying to show interest and not be discourteous despite my melancholy self absorbance.

"Did you bring lunch?" I look at the food and realise how hungry I am.

"Yes, I noticed you weren't there and went to the kitchen."

"Thank you so much, Arya." I give her a hug and grab the tray. We sit and eat together and talk about sword fighting, warrior women and many other topics. By the time all of the food is gone we are fast friends.

 

* * *

 

 

"Shall we go and watch the boys spar?" I ask, smiling. "We can take Wolfie for a walk as well." I motion for Arya to stand and pick up the leash. This time I am not in such a hurry so I pick a leather jacket with gold antler embroidery around the neck, a pair of gloves and one of my woollen winter cloaks. We walk down the stairs and out into the courtyard. Waiting for Arya is another of the direwolves, a lovely grey-white wolf with bright inquisitive eyes. Nymeria runs along in front of us, playfully snapping and howling at Wolfie who is at least twice as big as her. The older wolfhound seems to like the company of the young wolf and replies in kind but seems a little more restrained. Arya leads the way to the training ground and when she sees Jon standing on the covered bridge, watching Bran and Prince Tommen fighting with wooden swords. I hang back, letting Arya and Jon have this moment. Arya jumps into Jon's arms and he laughs before placing her back down. The Bastard's direwolf is also by his side, quiet and with completely white fur. Instead from interrupting I stand and watch the two young boys fighting bellow. Standing below the bridge are Theon and Robb, the latter is also wearing leather padding like Bran and is holding a blunted sword. My attention is grabbed when I hear a high pitched cry. Bran is seemingly the winner of this little battle. My youngest nephew is defeated so I think that I should probably go and make sure he is unhurt. I like Tommen and Myrcella, they are good children and have kind hearts, unlike their older brother. I tell Wolfie to stay and rush down to the yard, Bran helps Tommen up. I brush some of the dirt off him and take his wooden sword.

"Are you well, Tommen?" I ask, the boy beams up at me with some mud on his nose. I laugh and try to wipe it off with my sleeve.

"Did I fight well auntie Ena?" I nod and give him a hug.

"I'm very proud of you Tommen." I say. He looks over at Bran, not in a mean way at all and puts out his hand for the other boy to shake. I am pleased that no bad blood has developed between the two. I make sure that Bran is also all right and make my way over to the Lannister retainers with my nephew. Joffrey is standing with them his hand on his new sword.

"Joffrey, I don't think you are allowed to use a proper sword." I warn, trying to avert his anger from Winterfell's castellan or Robb.

"I am heir to the Seven Kingdoms! Do you think I can't handle my own sword?" he replies, venom in every syllable.

"Well, when using live steel, if ether of you can't handle your own swords Tommen may become heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Joff, I am merely thinking of your safety." I hope that he will listen but, if past experience is anything to go by I have probably made the situation worse.

"Don't call me Joff! You are not my mother." he yells, his face turning slightly pink.

"That's lucky for you or you would have been slapped by now." I snap back.

"Go away! What do women know of combat anyway. I don't need to be chastised by-" my hand comes through the air and slaps him smartly across the face, it makes a sound like a clap of thunder. He stumbles backwards and clutches at his cheek.

"I warned you,  _Joff._ " I say smiling at him as though he had just given me a cake, even the retainers stepping forward and trying to look mean can't wipe it off my face.

"You'll pay for this you bi-" I move as if to slap him again but stop before palm touches face. I get my desired effect; the young prince flinches and is instantly quiet. I look disparagingly at his ornate sword and turn around to return to the bridge.

"Tommen shouldn't be hearing that language,  _Joff_ , think of what your mother will say." I call back with my hand on Tommen's shoulder, leading him back to the Starks. I return to Wolfie, who Tommen quickly begins to play with and continue to watch my other nephew. He sneers at Ser Rodrik and Robb when the castellan attempts to give him one of the blunt swords. Joffrey is backed up with his retainers, all standing like bodyguards around the stuck up Prince. I sigh, tell Tommen to stay with Wolfie and see if I can sort out this mess.

However by the time I get there  _Joff_  has already turned his back on us.

"I feel that I must apologise for the behaviour of my nephew. He is our prince, but that is no excuse." I say as Robb looks ruefully at the blonde prince retreating back to Winterfell.

"He is unfortunately much more lion than stag." I continue.

"It isn't your fault, my lady, I blame his mother." he replies as he twists the blunted sword in his hand, he is evidently still wishing for a fight. A mischievous grin spreads across my face.

"I have no aversion to blunted blades, Stark."

"You wish to spar?" he asks incredulously, whilst looking me up and down. "My Lady I don't think that it is proper-"

"Stop with the my Ladying, and it is entirely proper, I'm descended from Storm Kings. Why shouldn't I fight like my forefathers?" I can hear Arya calling for Robb to let me spar. I can tell that he is tempted and with a last look at me he shrugs and Ser Rodrik hands me a heavy sword and looks at me as though daring me to ask for a lighter weapon. I quickly shrug off the cloak and hand it to Theon. Goosebumps run up my arms. I stand still with one foot in front of the other and raise the sword then let it fall as if it's too heavy. Rodrik guffaws and Robb bites back his laughter in an attempt not to be rude. I quickly seize it off the ground and begin to swing it around in my hand and feel for the balance. Robb notices and his eyes grow wide realizing that I am no simple noble lady. He changes his stance a little and inches closer. I decide that the best tactic is to make him complacent.

It is quickly clear to me that he is not going to attack first so I swing at his head, it is a little wide as I mean it to be, he blocks it with his blade, I press down hard but he easily repels it. I withdraw the pressure and this time aim for his hip, this he again blocks, I will have to get him on the offensive to beat him, we both strain to keep the swords together but I use this distraction to lift up my left leg and push him backwards. He is not expecting this so it doesn't matter that I haven't kicked him hard. He reels backwards but finds his footing. He grins at me as he walks quickly back to the centre of the field, there is a wild, feral look in his eyes this time, I've finally woken the wolf. Now he turns back to me and makes as if to hit my shoulder but instead spins round and goes for my middle, this stroke I parry and then slide my sword down his blade and press it to his arm. He darts to the side and a flabbergasted Ser Rodrik nods and says "continue". Robb becomes a whirlwind of sword strokes that I barely keep up with. Our sparring match ends with both of us exhausted, stuck in a battle of wills. I make a lazy attempt at his chest which he of course parries. I try to block the next strike but the force of it knocks me over. He stands over me with his sword pressed to my neck. With a sparkle in my eye I make one last move.

"Do you yield?" he demands, still being careful not to hurt me. "Do you yield?" repeats my opponent.

"Do  _you_  yield?" I ask with a smile slowly creeping across my face.

"What?" Robb asks. I push the edge of my sword a little harder onto his stomach so that he notices. I lower my arm and place my sword on the ground and grin up at Robb who holds out his hand to help me up. I accept his help and give the sword back to Ser Rodrik who is so surprised he still hasn't said a word. I make a mock curtsy and laugh at the look of confusion on Robb's face. I turn around and walk to Theon who bemusedly holds out my cloak. Arya runs down from the bridge, followed of course by her direwolf, and congratulates me. As I swing the heavy cloak back on and do up the gold clasp I note that the mysterious Jon Snow has disappeared along with his albino companion. Tommen is still with Wolfie and he gives me a wide smile. I let him hold Wolfie's lead as we walk back up to Winterfell. In my peripheral vision I can see the men I have left in the yard with wide eyes and varying levels of shock on each face.

 

* * *

 

Lady Stark and Septa Mordane have been looking for Arya for quite some time, they find us as we are walking to the royal rooms with the intention of leaving Tommen with his mother.

"Arya!" Arya ducks as if shrinking away from an explosion. "Arya! Where have you been?" shouts Catelyn. Arya cringes as looks at me pleadingly.

"Sorry Catelyn. I asked Arya to come and find me so that she could show me around. It really is my fault, not Arya's." I say, attempting to be as sincere as possible.

"In that case," she replies, her eyes narrowed at both of us. "I see no need to punish you Arya, however you will need to make up the time you missed." Arya groans. "But as you are with Lady Velena you can spend the rest of the day with her." she suddenly smiles and thanks her mother. "Oh, and Velena, you might want to have your clothes washed." the woman says with a humorous glint in her eyes. I try to look at the back of my jacket and leggings, indeed they have brownish marks on them from when I was knocked over. Arya and Tommen giggle.

"What are you looking at?!" I shout in pretend anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that the slappy bit might me a bit out of character, even Velena knows not to go around slapping future kings but it was a request from a friend so I felt like including it. She could have learnt it from Tyrion, you never know. :D
> 
> As usual please comment! And thanks to aFangirlLife the kudos was appreciated!


	6. The Fall

The rest of the time at Winterfell passes in relative quiet, eventually the departure draws near. The day before the court is due to leave there is a hunt, I had planned to accompany my brother and the others but suddenly my joy at riding has disappeared. So instead, on the eve of our departure I am to be found walking around Winterfell without much purpose. My family were raised in the light of the Seven. Robert has never been religious, Stannis prayed from time to time with our father and mother, I think. As far as I know Renly and I were anointed with the seven holy oils when we were born. All this changed when our parents were claimed by the sea. Stannis said that the Seven would never again have his worship and Robert instructed for us to be taught by the castellan and maester instead of a septon or septa. I can't remember praying in my life. So I am surprised when I find myself walking back to the Godswood on this chilly morning. I wrap my cloak around the wool dress tighter and see my breath freeze before my eyes. Now that I have time to really explore and take in my surroundings I see how wild this place is. A beautiful ancient wood, full of mystery, enclosed by castle walls. It is hard not to feel like I am intruding on something. The air is invigorating in here, full of life. There is moss on the floor and some occasional patches of grass. I walk past several different kinds of trees but it is the weirwood tree that I am most interested in. I put my hand on the silver bark and walk around the trunk until I see the face. It is carved deep into the tree. Out of the eyes is a stream of red sap.

"Weeping blood." I whisper. On this side of the tree is a pool, flat as if it was frozen however steam is gently blowing off it, showing that this is another of the hot springs. I sit on a flat stone by the side of the tree. I remember asking Robert what the Godswood was for at Storm's End and how you pray to the Old Gods. He had no idea. I don't know what I am supposed to do so for a while I sit and contemplate. My dream, the one about stags and direwolves comes to mind. I still have that feeling, like we are in a momentary pause before all hell breaks loose.

"I…I know that something is coming." I swallow. "Something bad...Was the direwolf a sign?" I ask, having no realistic hope that there will be an answer. Then I hear something, a rustle of leaves. In my heart it feels like it is a yes. "I want to help these people. I know that the Old Gods didn't kill my parents, there is a Godswood at Storm's End but you couldn't help, could you?" There is a gust of wind, like a caress, an apology. "How can I help them?" This time there is no answer, this answer must come from inside.

xoxox

I am returning from the Godswood when an utterly terrifying sound rents the air, it is an utterly distraught howl of grief and loss: the cry of a direwolf. I follow the sound, it leads me to the foot of a tower where a crowd has gathered around something. I can't see Catelyn or anyone with more authority than me so I push through the people. What I see is even worse than what I expected. Bran is lying on the ground with his eyes closed and his legs bent at strange angles. I don't scream, I stare for a moment until Bran's wolf cries again. I suddenly focus on what needs to be done.

"Aybe. Go and get Maester Luwin." I command, speaking to the page who helped me on the first day here. "Now!" I shout when he doesn't move.

"You, go and get Lady Stark, make sure that her other children do not come with her." I say to a maid.

"Is there a horse in the stables that you can ride?" I ask one of my household guards.

"Yes, m'lady." he replies.

"Find anyone else who can ride, give them the same message. Find Lord Stark and the King, say that they must return to Winterfell at once, on the word of Lady Velena." I finish and attempt to get everyone else to go to the Great Hall. Once the crowd has dispersed a little I drop to my knees by Bran. I put my hand above his face, I can feel shallow breaths on my palm.

"Thank the Gods." I whisper, he is still alive. I take his hand. "Bran, your mother is coming as fast as she can, and Maester Lunwin to make you better again. Oh Bran, why did you climb?" I sigh, brushing his hair off his face. I look up and see a figure running towards us. "Catelyn!" I shout, she is nearly there. I get out of the way.

"Bran! My boy!" she wails.

"He is still alive Catelyn." I say, my words have no effect and she falls down by her son. She kisses his forehead and strokes the top of his head. I hold her on the shoulder, trying to provide any scrap of comfort I can. Next comes Winterfell's Maester. I stand up and run to him.

"Bran fell, he is still alive, breathing. At the least his legs are broken." I report, to save Bran's precious time. The Maester at Storm's End enjoyed teaching me the basics of medicine, I remember him telling me that you should never move someone whose bones have been broken unless you have to.

"Did you see him fall?" he asks, a worried but calculative look in his eyes.

"No but I sent all of the people who found him to the hall." He nods, the maester precedes to check his pulse and the temperature of his face, he feels for the bones in his neck.

"Lord Stark should be arriving soon, wait for him and send him to us." he instructs, all the while Catelyn is crying, it breaks my heart to leave her like this but I do as I am told. I hitch up my skirts and run towards the gates. After some time I hear loud hoofbeats. At the head of the column of riders is Lord Stark, his face is lined with worry.

"Lord Stark!" I shout, to grab his attention. He doesn't dismount, his horse comes to a halt next to me. "Your son, Bran has fallen from a tower, Catelyn and Maester Luwin are with him." I point at where I ran from and Ned gallops off in that direction.

"What happened?" shouts Robb from his black destrier.

"Bran is very hurt." I say slowly, trying to break the news as delicately as possible. He almost throws himself from his horse, and marches up to me, grabbing me by my shoulders.

"What happened?" he demands. The time for games is over.

"He is still alive but his legs are broken, he fell from a tower." Robb makes as if to follow his father, I seize his arm. "As far as I know your brothers and sisters don't know what happened, shouldn't you go to them?" He pulls it out of my grasp and just keeps going, breaking into a run. I now have no idea what to do, the energy that got me through the events of the afternoon has just dropped, leaving me with nothing. I stare at the person I joked with and sparred with running towards his brother, this is an abrupt end to his carefree days. This moment marks the end of the beginning for all the Stark children. Loss or near loss, the latter is what I hope this will be, is really what makes people grow up. Some think it is when a boy has his first woman or when a girl flowers or is married but they are wrong. It is pain and loss that makes us who we are.


	7. Ours is the Fury

The wolves are always howling, all five of them except Ghost. The albino direwolf is as silent as he was before but has a sorrowful look in his eyes now. Catelyn won't let Bran's wolf stay with his master so the currently unnamed direwolf sits below Bran's window and howls, it hasn't stopped all night. I took food to it the evening after Bran's fall with a sleeping draught from Maester Luwin mixed in but either it had no effect or the wolf didn't eat anything. I am dreadfully tired, having only got around three hours of sleep last night but I have no doubt that Catelyn is worse, I visited her after all the Starks did; I didn't want to intrude on the family, her face was gaunt and her voice showed her deep sadness. It is now the day of departure for the court, I expect that many will be happy to leave the wilderness that surrounds Winterfell and to a degree I will too, the castle is now somber and cold. However I have found solace in the North, like I have never had before and I will definitely miss the Starks who remain here, they seem like they could do with some help now as well since Eddard is going South and Catelyn is not going to be able to help Robb with ruling the North in his father's stead. I lie in bed in a futile attempt to get more sleep, part of me knows that I might as well get up but the rest of me is too lazy to do anything. I crack open an eyelid and peer into the room, the curtain prevents most of the light getting in but I can see that it must be late morning. I wrap a dressing gown around my shift and open the door. Two members of my household guard are standing sentry outside. I send for Bettanie and Lalis to come and dress me and then shut the door again, the next time it opens it is Lalis with all of my laundry in a basket.

"Good morrow, My Lady." she says, politely.

"Lalis, what have I said about calling me 'My Lady'?"

"Sorry. My Lady." she jokes as she loads the last of my dresses into the trunks. I don't know Lalis as well as Bettanie because she has only served me for five months or so but she has a good sense of humor and a remarkable knowledge of the goings on at court. She is four years younger than me and has bronze coloured hair that reaches down to her elbows, she is thin and short but very pretty. I wash at the basin and then change into a clean slip. As a mark of respect to the mourning family I choose a silver grey dress with accents of white embroidery instead of something overly rich and colourful. Bettanie arrives as Lalis is is pulling me into a corset. The older woman picks up an underskirt and lays it out on the bed as I breathe in so that Lalis can tie the straps. I pull on the gown easily, a darker grey sleeved wrap is put on next and finally a pelt over my shoulders. I look in the mirror and decide that I look like a true northerner. I wear my boots because it is too cold for slippers and go to the chest of draws in the corner, in the bottom draw is a short dagger in a sheath. It has an antler handle and is finest valyrian steel, however it is not richly decorated, the only extra detail on it is my house words engraved on the small cross guard. I read the familiar moto and smile to myself as I tuck it up my sleeve. Now, convinced that I am safe thanks to my dagger, I walk down to the hall to break my fast. My handmaidens go to the kitchens for their meal and I ask them to bring something up for Wolfie.

I pass the Queen and her two youngest children in a corridor, Tommen and Myrcella smile and say a fond greeting, Cersei gives me a guarded smile.

"Sister." I say curtly.

"Velena." she replies. I don't hate Cersei, I just dislike the way she always seems to be hiding something. Her love for her children is what keeps things civil between us, I couldn't not love Tommen and Myrcella. I continue walking towards the hall and the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread causes me to increase my pace. The passage opens up to the hall and the tables are arranged as they normally are but this time there are only two occupants and neither of them are Starks.

"Good morning dear brothers." I say with a tired smile as I take a seat across from my two brothers in law. Jaime gives me a winning smile and saunters off but Tyrion stays at the table and takes a long gulp of beer. "Is there any more news on Bran?" I ask whilst buttering some bread.

"The Maester says that the most dangerous stage is over and that he may recover." Tyrion says matter of factly.

"That is brilliant news." I say, a true smile spreading on my face. "Are you looking forward to returning to the capital? I expect you're missing playing the game."

"Ah, yes indeed, I have missed scheming and plotting." he replies.

"That's the same thing." I point out, he nods and languidly points at me.

"She's a smart one." he says to no one in particular. "Anyway I'm not returning to that blasted place just yet, I think the high lords can fuck up their plans on their own for a while." he says and takes a large bite out of some bread. I swallow my food.

"What do you mean?" I ask, perplexed.

"Haven't you always wondered about the Wall?" he looks into the middle distance as if imagining the great ice structure.

"Well I know a life of honor is tempting but I don't think King's Landing would survive without you." I say with mock seriousness.

"It's touching you find me that important in politics." he replies in kind.

"Oh, no it's not politics I'm talking about, I'm talking about all of the whores that would go bust, I expect they account for around a third of the commerce in King's Landing." he snorts derisively. "But seriously, I will miss you Tyrion."

"As will I Velena. Keep an eye on Joffrey will you?" he asks and then hops down off the bench. I finish my breakfast in silence, except for the faint howling of wolves.

xoxox

Over breakfast I have considered what I can do to help the Starks, I can go back to King's Landing and look out for Lord Stark, undoubtedly my brother will whip up some trouble and I can help sort that out, but I think Eddard will do a good job there. The Stark that has the largest task ahead will be Robb. He has spent his whole life building up to being Lord of Winterfell but he was expecting to wait a lot longer and to have more people to support him. With Catelyn indisposed he will definitely be feeling lost and I have had experienced managing a household and expenses from when I was left in charge of Storm's End, officially it belongs to Renly but I have lived there for most of my life. I go back to my rooms and find Bettanie folding the last of my small clothes.

"Bettanie," she's going to love me for this. I think, "don't take the chests down to go on the wagons just yet."

"Why?" she asks, an tired look on her face.

"I am probably staying here for a little while longer." I rush, attempting to get it over with quickly. I squint as Bettanie throws a shift into the chest with violent force.

"So you're telling me that Lalis and I packed these trunks for nothing?" she asks, attempting to suppress her anger.

"Sorry, don't unpack them yet." I apologize and give her an uncomfortable smile.

"It's alright Velena, I don't really mind, it is my job after all."

"Thank you, you're the best." I give her a hug and leave again, as I walk away I hear a tutting noise and I giggle quietly.

xoxox

"Leave him alone, Jaime." I command with a tired voice. He is talking to Jon Snow, making fun of him really, laughing at everything he is. The Nights Watch recruit is defending the order that he is soon to be a member of.

"I'm just thanking him for the noble sacrifice he is making." his voice is saturated with sarcasm. "You do like defending Stark boys don't you, oh wait I forgot, your not a Stark." he turns back to Jon who just finds a new level of brooding. I let out a breath.

"You're just jealous, Jaime."

"Really? I'm jealous of some boy who can't even beat a weak little thing like you?" he walks closer until I can feel his breath on my cheek. I turn away but when I look back at him I smile, not my charming smile, my challenging smile.

"At least he fights fair, I don't think he would win by stabbing someone in the back." now the Lannister narrows his eyes at me but I stand my ground.

"You don't want me as your enemy, Baratheon, all the knights in King's Landing couldn't save you." he snarls at me, spitting out my name as if it is poison in his mouth.

"I fight my own battles Lannister." I reply in kind.

"You think your name or your meager skill with a sword will keep you safe?" he replies, in an intimidating tone. I nod and smirk wickedly in his face. "Maybe we should see about that." he turns and walks away.

"Maybe we should." I call after him. I don't pay attention to where he goes I just let out a short laugh.

I turn around again to find Jon, who looks suitably surprised, at least he isn't staring at the floor and gritting his teeth like usual.

"Why is it that I feel I'm always apologising for that side of the family?" I mutter to myself. Jon turns back to the blacksmith. "Jon, you know he was partially right." I warn.

"The Nights Watch-" he begins to say.

"Protects the Seven Kingdoms, thousands of years, I know. But trust me, it isn't what you expect; it is a crumbling order made up of beggars, thieves and dishonored men. I was there when one of the black brothers left King's Landing with his new recruits, I doubt you will find Castle Black to be a better home than this."

"I am a stranger in my own home." he says looking down at the floor.

"Tell that to Arya, Robb or your Father. When Arya found out that you were leaving she ran to me, crying. She needs you Jon. I'm an orphan, at least you know one of your parents, don't throw it away too eagerly." Now that brooding look comes back. "Think about what this means for others as well as yourself before you leave, before you take your vows." I say and walk away to the guest house hoping that I have opened his eyes to what the Wall is really like.

xoxox

I find my brother in his apartment in the guest house. His squire, Lancel Lannister is searching for an item of clothing in one of five large oak trunks, he has a pinched look on his face and is clearly scared of his King.

"Not the brown one! The black and gold, Gods! Did your mother drop you often as a child?" he bellows at the poor boy, Robert is wearing an off white shirt and evidently needs a doublet of some sort.

"Brother, leave him alone." he turns to me and still looks red faced and angry.

"Who are you to order me to do anything?" he shouts indignantly.

"Your sister, with twice your intelligence and a lot more courage." I say plainly, Lancel gasps and looks up at me. Robert laughs and his expression softens.

"Little doe, you look like a stag in wolf's clothing." he says in a softer voice that he only uses for me.

"Yes I do." I reply looking down at my grey dress. I wave Lancel away and start to look through Robert's clothes. "Is this the one you're after?" I ask, holding up an expensive doublet made out of black and gold threads woven together to form a pattern of vines. He nods.

"Why are you here then?" he asks as I throw it over to him and he begins putting it on.

"I was wondering, since you are dragging Ned to King's Landing and Catelyn-"

"Yes?" he hurries me along, finishing the buttons.

"I would like to stay here a while to help the Starks get back on their feet." I say quickly.

"Really," he looks at me sideways with a smirk. "and I suppose this has nothing to do with the young Lord of Winterfell." I let out a tired sigh and pour out two glasses of wine.

"You know my thoughts on marriage, that was just wishful thinking on your part." I say back and take a long gulp of wine.

"Velena-"

"I do not wish to speak of this." My grip tightens on the goblet until I'm afraid it will shatter.

"But you should think about who you want to marry, I will not force your hand-"

"Robert, I don't want to marry!" I shout, my anger bubbling to the surface. Robert holds his hands up in surrender. At length a smile returns to his face, I look at him questioningly.

"It is true what they say about Baratheon women." he lets out a gruff laugh.

"What do they say?" I take a long breath and let the anger drain out of me.

"They have double the fury." I smile and pick up my brother's crown.

"And don't you forget it." I reply, placing it on his head.

"Ours is the Fury, sister." he quotes with a small smile.

"Ours is the Fury."


	8. The Parting of the Ways

It is a clear afternoon, not a cloud in the sky, and further south it would be a perfect day, but here it is freezing and a biting wind cuts through my cloak. My hair flies around and becomes something resembling a bird's nest. The courtyard is full again, like it was a few weeks ago. As if to match the weather this is a much colder occasion, Catelyn and Bran are not here and like a pack of wolves, separating the Starks makes them weaker. I am standing by Rickon, holding his little hand as he stands next to Robb. Maester Luwin, Theon and Ser Rodrik are also there and my handmaidens and household guard stand next to their northern counterparts. In the yard the King's court and those departing for the Wall are all on horseback or in the Queen's carriage, it reminds me of how we arrived. I feel like there has been an exchange, Ned and his daughters for me and my ladies. Arya, Sansa and their septa are the last to enter the carriage, Arya is repeatedly rolling her eyes and Sansa is practically glowing. Sansa will love King's Landing, I can imagine her at the parties and dancing at balls. She will be a diplomatic, dutiful Queen but I fear for her. To rule a kingdom a king needs a strong queen, Sansa is not strong like that.

"Velena!" Arya shouts and tries to run but her Septa reigns her in. She attempts to walk demurely but it looks more like a strop. She hugs Rickon and ruffles his hair, rather like I have seen Jon ruffle hers.

"Come back soon Arya." he mutters.

"Goodbye Rickon." his name catches in her throat and I can see her blink away tears. She turns to me and gives me a small smile.

"Look after him for me." Arya whispers. I give her a wry smile and bend down a little to give her a hug.

"Have you packed Needle carefully?" I ask quietly.

"Yes." she replies at equal volume. I wink and she giggles. She takes a step over to Robb. Sansa has said goodbye to Rickon and she now stands in front of me. The oldest Stark girl is again looking down.

"Sansa," she looks up, revealing her striking Tully eyes. "I regret that we have not spent more time together. I think you will enjoy the capital, just remember," I take her hand. "not everyone is as honorable as your father." I look seriously into her eyes, blue meeting lilac and storm grey. She just stares back at me, not knowing what to say.

"Thank you for that advice, my Lady." I give her an encouraging look.

"I don't mean to scare you. Goodbye for now Sansa."

"Yes Velena." She curtsies and I notice my brother and Ned, I think that Robert has probably been saying goodbye to Lyanna. They walk up to us and Ned kisses my hand and says a quick thank you. He and Robb hug and I can feel how apprehensive the young lord is as his father says goodbye. Robert pulls me into a bear hug and completely unladylike I squeeze him back tightly.

"I always forget how tall you are now, I still remember the little girl getting mud and grass stains on her dresses." he says quietly so that only I can hear. I concentrate on remaining strong and keeping back the tears that threaten to roll down my cheeks. I remind myself that this is where I am supposed to be. I refuse to cry; I am a Baratheon of Storm's End, I do not cry, at least not here.

The long train of people streams out of Winterfell's gates Rickon begins to cry. I squeeze his hand. Ned smiles at me appreciatively. Then the newly appointed Hand looks at Robb to encourage him and he stands a little straighter. Ned kicks his horse into action and departs. Robert rides off next to him and looks back once but then is out of sight through the gates. I stare after them for a while and then walk away, taking Rickon with me. Shaggydog, the boy's direwolf follows.

"I don't want daddy and Arya and Sansa to go." he whispers softly. I stop a bend down to look into his blue eyes.

"They'll be back soon, and for now you have me." he looks at the floor, still feeling angry and betrayed. "If you like I can help you write a letter to all of them later." Rickon smiles a little and I ruffle his hair affectionately. I put my arm around his shoulders and lead him back to the Great Hall. Robb is still standing looking out of the gates long after everyone else has gone.

xoxox

Rickon is sad; he tries to pretend he isn't and is genuinely interested in my stories about various tourneys that I've attended. He is perched on a cushion on top of a chair so that he can get to the table. It isn't time for dinner yet but in about half an hour it will be so we sit and talk for a while. I don't know where Robb is but I know how hard it is for a six year old to comprehend being left by their family so I stay with Rickon. Theon arrives next and I say a polite greeting. He replies with a smarmy smile and his eyes flick down to look at my chest. I grit my teeth and draw my wrap over my body.

"You know I was surprised when I found out you weren't leaving." he says with a wide smile as he notices how I covered myself.

"It's My Lady to you, Greyjoy." I say with as much spite as I can muster.

"I wonder, My Lady, did you stay because you are interested in Lord Stark's sword skills." he leers. I stand up and stare at him, my eyes narrowed and hands curled into fists. Theon draws closer to until his face is inches from mine.

"Say that again and I'll have you-"

"Have me what? Your power left with your brother." he grabs my arm and that is what tips me over the edge, I bring my knee up to his groin and he hisses in pain.

"So you were saying?" I ask as he sinks to the floor. It is possibly the worst time but the doors swing open again and Robb walks in.

"Theon are you alright?" he asks. I kick Theon, not as hard this time and he jumps up.

"Yes, I was just...um...doing my shoelace." he explains with a pained smile. I know that he will try and get me back but I have shown him how I deal with people who disrespect me. Robb calls a servant and they tell the kitchens that we are ready for dinner, he instructs for food to be sent to Catelyn. Theon gives me one last look and sits down leaving a chair for Robb. Robb takes his place next to me and talks to Theon about the diminished guard in Winterfell, I point out that I have fifteen of my own men who can be set to work with them. A tureen of soup arrives, two different cuts of pork, green apples and some bread is laid out on the table. There is little happy talk and even less laughter, when I notice Rickon yawning I decide to take him to bed and then call on Catelyn.

Rickon doesn't make any fuss as I take him upstairs, but he isn't happy when I leave him with his nanny. I promise to take him out with me tomorrow to walk Wolfie and then make him go to sleep.

xoxox

When I find Catelyn she is still in her dress from yesterday and a wheel shaped object is lying in her lap. She is sitting in a chair and working on a wooden figure next to her Bran is still sleeping in his bed. She looks up as I enter the room and close the door behind me.

"Velena." she puts down the figure, "I never thanked you for helping my son."

"It was no trouble Catelyn." I sit down on the end of Bran's bed. Catelyn continues tying straw hair onto the little piece of wood.

"Thank you for staying." she says quietly, we sit in silence for a while until I realise that she is making a prayer wheel.

"Is that the Maiden or the Mother?" I ask.

"The Mother." she answers.

"Is that how you pray to the Seven?" she looks up, surprised.

"Do you keep to the Old Gods at Storm's End?" she asks, clearly expecting me to know how to pray to the Seven.

"We don't keep to any gods really." I explain.

"This is one way, it protects children when their mother makes one. You can pray in the Sept if you like." she puts down the wheel and looks quite reminiscent. "When I first came North I didn't have anywhere to pray and neither did my household. So Ned set aside a room and had a Sept built, just for me. Robb could show you if you like." she smiles but then realises where she is again and grabs the wheel.

"Do you want to sleep? I could watch Bran for you." I ask, seeing how tired she is.

"No." I know that she doesn't mean to be rude but she does seem to snap at me.

"Old Gods or New, I hope with all my heart that Bran recovers. Good night then Catelyn." I say tiredly and leave.

xoxox

Dear Arya,

I'm sorry that you have to go in the carriage with Sansa. (please make sure no one else can see this letter!) Have you found someone to practice with? When I join you in King's Landing I'll be happy to help, if your father will let me of course. Nothing has changed in Winterfell really, Bran is still asleep but Maester Luwin insists that he is still on the road to recovery. Rickon is supposed to be helping me write this letter but he is quite sad at the moment and tries to avoid everyone. Yesterday I found him and Shaggydog perched in the Weirwood tree, he refused to come down until I promised to take him to Robb.

I think you will like the capital, if you go to the library in the Red Keep you can find lots of books on battles and I recall reading an account of Nymeria's conquest of Dorne a few years ago. The librarian is a rather befuddled old man but his daughter is agreeable, she will gladly help you find what you need, just say I sent you. If you take a guard with you I think visiting some markets would be worthwhile, you can find everything and anything and the traders have many stories from Essos.

I am sorry that I cannot send you happier news.

Keep well,

Velena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	9. Daggers and Wolves

The winds outside are howling, most people probably find the sound annoyingly loud but I like it. The soft singing makes me feel at home, all I need is the salty tang of the ocean and a merrily crackling fire and I will be perfectly relaxed. The sound of the wind rattling the window and the glow of the candle will have to do. I have just tucked Rickon into bed and he has demanded a story so I sit on the chair next to his bed and am about halfway through one of my favorite tales that Robert told me and Renly as children:

"So Argilac the Arrogant decided to meet Orys in open battle, that's why we call him the Arrogant; Storm's End is the strongest castle ever built because the Children of the Forest wove their magic into the stones so that the wind and the water wouldn't destroy it and neither could siege weapons. Anyway he rode out to fight Orys Baratheon and Rhaenys with her dragon, Meraxes. Meraxes was so big that she could swallow whole horses, but her power wasn't in biting or eating." Rickon looks up at me and his eyes are wide and he is very interested. "The she-dragon breathed fire. Fire so hot it would turn you to ash in a second." the little boy gasps. "So of course Argilac was defeated at the Battle of the Last Storm. He fought Orys in single combat and both were injured. Orys won and the last King fell while a great storm hammered the coast. Argilac's daughter, Argella Durrandon stayed in Storm's End and declared herself Storm Queen. Her servants did not want to be destroyed by the dragon, like Harrenhal was, so they surrendered and caught her. They delivered her to Orys in chains. Remember that Aegon had offered a marriage between Orys and Argella? Well Orys freed her and married her so the whole war could have been avoided if Argilac hadn't been so arrogant in the first place. Orys decided to take her colours and words and they are our moto and sigil to this day." I finish the tale and slowly stand up.

"Can I have another story, Ena?" he sits up in bed, his eyes alight with curiosity. I let out a lighthearted sigh.

"Tomorrow, Rickon." I say and give him a little hug. "Now sleep." I pick up the flickering candle that is on the bedside table and turn to the door. Robb is standing in the doorway and I jump a little as I didn't hear anyone approach.

"Goodnight Rickon." he says and I hear the sound of Shaggydog jumping onto the bed. Robb moves out of the way so that I can leave and closes the door behind me.

An awkward silence develops as we walk down the corridor. Robb looks as though he is going to say something a few times but never does. I rack my brain for something to say but I can't think of anything that doesn't sound totally stupid so eventually I give in and hold my hands together in front of me in the demure, ladylike way I have seen the ladies at court do. Why? Why am I trying to be ladylike? I ask myself. I have rarely, if ever, tried to be ladylike. Is Robb making me act like this? I shake away this ridiculous notion and decide to say something along the lines of it being nice weather.

Another person begins to talk at exactly the same moment. "We need a new steward and there are several other appointments that require our immediate attention." we hear the soft voice of Winterfell's maester from inside Bran's bedroom. I stop walking and so does my companion.

"I don't care about appointments!" Catelyn says in a strained shout. I look at Robb and he looks at me. He walks into the room, I tentatively follow.

"I'll make the appointments. We'll talk about it first thing in the morning." this earns Robb a smile from the Maester.

"Very good my lord, my lady." Luwin nods to both of us as he walks past and leaves. Robb strides over to the window and opens the wooden casement, I stand at the end of Bran's bed and wonder if I should really be here. We can hear the sound of the two direwolves in the yard howling, Catelyn seems to hate the noise and she practically wilts at the sound.

"When was the last time you left this room?" the young lord asks with a slow, disappointed tone.

"I have to take care of him." Catelyn answers. I feel like I'm an unwelcome intruder and turn around to leave.

"Velena, stay." he almost commands, his voice is so weary and lost that I don't even consider going against him. "He's not going to die mother. Maester luwin says the most dangerous time has passed."

"What if he's wrong? Bran needs me." she protests.

"Rickon needs you. He's six, he doesn't know what's happening. He follows me around all day, clutching my leg, crying. Yesterday we thought he had run away, Velena found him in the heart tree, she tries to look after him but Velena isn't your replacement." I look down at the floor, not wanting to seem like I am taking over Catelyn's place. I do the best that I can to control the unruly boy and keep his spirits up at the same time but I know that I am nothing close to a mother. "Something worse will happen unless you start being a mother to him again." Robb says more forcefully. I remember the terror of losing Rickon, it makes me feel like I'm going to be sick.

"Close the windows, I can't stand it! Please make them stop!" she cries, it is a truly distraught sound and I can't stand the panic in her voice.

"Do as she says Robb." I order in a hard voice, leaving no room for discussion. Robb turns back to the window but he goes completely still for a moment.

"Fire!" I look up. "You stay here I'll come back." he calls as he runs out of the room.

"Fire?" I am taken aback. Catelyn gets to her feet and walks stiffly to the window. Something doesn't feel right about this; a fire, right now when most people will be inside after the day's work and when someone could easily slip about the castle unnoticed.

I take my dagger out of my sleeve and walk quietly to the door. I slowly step into the corridor and look both ways. I can't see anything out of place so I go to close the door, that's when I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I wait a moment, my senses in overdrive and hear the scuff of a shoe on the stone. I press my body into the wall and wait. A hooded man comes into view. I keep completely still until he is just through the door and then throw myself at him. I grab his hood and pull it down so that I can hold my dagger to his throat. The man is quite lanky and he flails around in an attempt to strike me. He elbows me in the stomach and I let out a moan however I do not let go, Bran's life rests on these next few seconds. The man throws his head around and manages to headbutt me on the temple. It dazes me and that is the slip up he needs. With a combination of luck and despiration he manages to shake off my grip on his hood and produces a knife of his own. He attempts to stab me in the belly with it so I have to let him go. Catelyn is not blind to what is happening and grabs a pewter candle holder, she stands in front of Bran as I again attempt to stop him. This time I don't bother with capturing him alive. I throw my dagger and it somersaults through the air and buries itself in his back, just below his right shoulder blade. He lets out and animalistic screech but still tries to get closer to the defenceless boy, asleep in his bed. Catelyn lets out a cry and raises the pewter candle holder above her head. Before she has chance to use it a grey-brown blur has darted past me and jumped up onto his back. The man shrieks and the ripping sound of flesh fills the room. His cry gets quieter and turns to a gargle as blood bubbles out of his tattered throat. Bran's direwolf again sinks his fangs into the assassin's flesh to make sure he is dead and then jumps up onto the bed and nuzzles his master. I stare at Catelyn, my blood pumping round at a furious pace and let out a long breath. After my breathing and pulse has slowed down and my headache has diminished I realise that more danger could be on it's way and I kneel down to pull my dagger out of it's grizzly target and take the weapon that the assassin had. For a moment I stop and study the dagger; Valyrian steel, Dragonbone handle and enough gold to hire a small army. I dismiss this train of thought and concentrate on listening out for someone approaching. The direwolf quietly lies next to the sleeping boy as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened whilst the man's dark blood pools on the floor mere feet away.


	10. The Nightmare

The red stone walls are hot to the touch, they have been baking in the southern heat for hours. The corridor is dark and the only light comes through the small cross shaped holes for archers to use in a siege. I start to walk again, panic setting in when I realise that I have no recollection of this place. My hands start to shake and my breaths become shallower. It is then that I notice the soft pad of leather soles on the flagstones behind me. I start to run, unable to turn around, scared of what I might see. There is a quiet slither behind me, they have just drawn a blade. My movements become even more frantic and just as I think that the corridor is infinite it opens up to the airy expanse of the throne room in the Red Keep. At the other end is the blasted piece of iron that so many wish to sit on. Only those who wear a crown know it's true weight. Or at least that's what Maester Cressin once told me. Why would someone wish for that? I ponder as I walk closer.

But then a ray of sunlight breaks from behind a cloud. I stand there transfixed. The glorified chair is gleaming, glittering, transformed to purest light. I step closer, it feels like every eye in Westeros and beyond is trained on me, even though the hall is empty. I ascend the steps, one measured pace at a time. A golden crown lies discarded on the top step. It is strong and cold in my hand as I pick it up; a satisfying weight. I turn and regard the hall. Slowly I sit, placing the crown on my lap. So this is how it feels to sit on a throne.The chair is cold, bleak even. In a daze I raise the crown above my head. I bring it down until it rests just above my brow. I marvel at the feeling. I feel powefull, enlightened. A small smirk curls my lips. Time passes and eventually I hear people approaching. It is a number of people, I can hear their steps, strangely not their voices though. I should get up, replace the crown on the step, but I can't. I am suddenly powerless, I can't lift a finger. That's when they come into view. An army of kings. All with the legendary silver hair of the Targaryens. Each man wears a crown, the same crown that now presses down on my head. They step closer, a scowl on each face, identical narrowed eyes, fixated on me. Behind me a figure steps out of the shadows, I know they mean to kill me. I feel the ice cold bite of steel at my throat. Then a warm wetness spreading down my front. I scream as my blood gushes out and splatters the chair. The Targaryen kings watch on as I die, each set of purple eyes boring into mine, giving the same message: Fire and Blood.

My hand flies to my throat. I cant breathe, I'm choking. My skin is clammy but feverishly hot. I scramble out of the sheets and somehow manage to get to the window. Haistily I throw open the casement and take a long gulp of the cold air. It is still dark, slightly lighter to the east but evidently very early in the morning. My right hand is still on my neck. It felt so real but there is no evidence of the nightmare on my skin. I take many calming breaths and wait for the panic attack to subside. Tears of fear and relief mingle on my cheeks. It is too warm inside Winterfell, and a little damp, like a bathhouse. I turn and survey the rest of the room. The bed, well it is almost unrecognisable, the sheets and furs are half on the floor, I seem to have torn at my pillow and feathers are all over the bed. I can see that the lock has been slid across on the door so I don't have to worry about someone getting in. On my bedside table both daggers are accounted for and I pick mine up. I decide that I am not going to stay here any longer and attempt to get dressed. My whole body feels numb and it is a victory when I successfully tie my leggings at the waist and lace up my boots. On top of a thick woolen tunic I throw on a black leather jerkin and my warmest cloak and quickly leave, remembering my dagger of course. So for around the sixth time since I've been here I make my way to the Godswood.

It has become a habit recently to wake early and go to the wood, I can't explain it, the place just seems to have a magical quality. I walk alone, I don't see anybody ether. The cold air that hits me as I leave the castle is just what I need to wake me up. It was just a nightmare. I have to keep telling myself. When I enter the Godwood I take my normal place, sitting on the rock by the pool. I

don't really want power, I don't want to sit on a throne. All I want is a family, I want the power to keep them safe. The sky begins to lighten and the stars start to disappear. When the sky has become a soft golden colour I hear a panting noise. I grip my dagger and stand. It is just Grey Wind. I smile and drop my hand. He smells it again and nuzzles my leg. The direwolves have grown so much in just the last few weeks. I sink back down onto the stone and the direwolf lies down next to me. I run my hand through his soft fur and scratch him behind the ear.

"You're usually with Robb. Where is he?" I ask. Grey Wind just looks up at me, his big glassy eyes seem to show understanding though. I sigh. "You'll keep him safe won't you? For me?" The direwolf gives me a little howl in response. I know that it will be time to go back to King's Landing soon, I can't reasonably stay here, my brothers need me, even though they think they don't. I resolve myself to talk to Robb about this, when it's appropriate of course. The sun has risen when I decide that it is time to go back to the castle. Grey Wind scampers along in front of me, like he is clearing the way for me and acting as a bodyguard. I chuckle, I can imagine Robb acting like that. The wolves have taken on lots of the characteristics of their owners. Grey Wind is protective and definitely the alpha male. Lady is demure and peaceful, Nymeria is willful but no less friendly, Bran's wolf is quiet but clever and Shaggydog is wild and a little aggressive. Grey Wind leads me to the great hall where the table is set with food. Robb is the only one there, good, I think, it will be easier to talk about leaving. I smile hesitantly as Grey Wind runs to his master.

"I was wondering where he had got to." Robb says as the direwolf settles it's self by his chair.

"He found me in the Godswood." I reply and pull out a chair across the table from him.

"Why don't you sit here?" the young lord asks, an annoyingly charming smile on his face, and pulls out the chair next to him. I bite my lip, closeness is not what I want in a conversation about me leaving.

"Fine." I try to force some brightness into my tone, and smile.

"My family is indebted to you Velena. If you hadn't been there...I dread to think."

"You would have done the same for me, and besides I'm not hurt." I say frankly. Gods, I don't want to leave. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you look at it, Maester Luwin arrives. He is carrying a heavy leather bound book.

"The accounts my Lord." he explains and places the huge tome on the table. I pick up a knife and a red apple, evidently not grown in the north. I decide to wait until the Maester leaves but the accounts take a long time and then Theon joins us at the table. The latest arrival winks at me and nearly causes me to regurgitate my apple so I mutter an apology and stalk off to my room. On my walk back I wonder why I feel so all over the place. I recount the last few weeks and realize that it is about that time of the month again.

"Shit." I sigh indignantly.

xoxox

I decide to change my clothes when I have again bolted my door. Bettanie helps me lace the deep red dress up at the back and Lalis carefully packs up the clothes I discarded. I spend the rest of the morning penning a letter to Renly. When I decided to stay in the north Robb had given me the use of a solar one floor up from my room, so that is where I sit. Today I am mostly taking after Robert, I am definitely not in a good mood and drinking in the morning is one of my brother's favorite pass times. The solar has been made up for my use. Somewhere the servants managed to find a tapestry with the black stag of my house emblazoned on a yellow field which now hangs on a wall. It is not a crowned stag, so evidently it dates back to before Robert's Rebelion. I prefer the stag without it's crown, after all, I am primarily a Baratheon of Storm's End then a Baratheon of King's Landing. Two walls of the solar are connected to the rest of the castle but the last two are made up of ten long, arch-shaped windows. The glass alone must have cost a fortune. My solar at King's Landing is quite similar, around the same size but all the windows are just stone, artfully cut in complex patterns to allow sunlight into the room. There is a selection of comfortable seats in the room and a table in the middle on which a glass bottle and cups are placed. It is that strongwine that I'm currently drinking. This is where Robb finds me a few hours later.

"My mother requests your presence in the Godswood." my brow furrows.

"I thought Catelyn worshiped the Seven." I reply, standing up and brushing down my skirts.

"She does but I believe she wishes to talk about something quite serious." his face becomes more set and lined. I let out a breath to steady myself.

"Robb, I have to talk to you about something too." I watch his eyes, they get a bit wider in surprise or maybe even fear. I urge myself on wards. "I have stayed here to help you, you and Catelyn and Rickon. But as I see it you are a very capable lord and Catelyn has finally come back to us so can look after Rickon." I argue my point politely and keep an even tone but I cant stop fidgeting.

"What?" he snaps as if he can't understand a word I'm saying.

"I have a family too, I can't abandon them!" I reply with equal ferocity.

"So you abandon us instead?" I snort derisively at his twisted logic.

The alcohol seems to have shortened my temper considerably so when I next open my mouth I find myself shouting.

"I'm not abandoning anybody, I stayed here to help and I have!" he walks over to me, a wild look in his bright blue eyes.

"If you want to leave, you know where the door is." he hisses in a voice as cold as the land that he rules. Somehow it is even worse than when he was shouting.

"Fine." I bring my face up to his in a move to intimidate him and then roughly push past the stubborn ass of a lord. "Enjoy your solar, My Lord." I shout over my shoulder and slam the door as loudly as I can. A moment later I hear the sound of a bottle hitting the door and smashing. I fume as I stomp down the stairs, it's a wonder that my head doesn't explode. My hands are balled up into fists. How can Robb make me out to be the bad guy? I stayed and helped him! I could have been on my way back to King's Landing with Arya, Sansa and Ned. I could have been sitting down to eat lunch with the more agreeable members of the Stark family right now. But no, I'm currently taking out my anger on these non-sentient grey stones beneath my feet. I stop a moment and take a deep breath. It is all so unfair. My eyes start to water at the cruelness of all of this. No! I mentally reprimand myself, I shall not cry because of that wretched Stark!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! So what's your opinion on that then? I'm quite proud of the argument bit actually. Please review! Huge thank you to everyone who left Kudos!


	11. Staying and Going

Maester Cressin used to tell me that I had a peaceful soul and a caring heart but angry blood. I never really understood what he meant, well until today that is. I want peace, am driven by emotions no matter how much I try to make decisions with my mind and have Baratheon fury running in my veins like my brothers. Robert often says that I am the most like our mother in our family but, that in my looks I was mostly like the other Baratheons; all black hair, blue eyes and a strong jaw but I also inherited a short temper and the capacity to hold grudges for decades. Despite how infuriated Robb has made me I do hope that this will not end up being a long feud, gods know, I have such a small number of people that I trust I simply cannot afford to push those I have away. My head tells me to turn around and march back to Robb and ask for his forgiveness but my blood boils in my veins at the memory of Robb accusing me of abandoning his family. I can't decide if what he actually said is worse or the fact that it is him that said it. Robb's words stung me because I expected him to understand, at least to be rational in his argument and not so fiercely angry. Why did this get to me so much? I ponder. For years I have endured jibes from Littlefinger and comments about how I am still unmarried from Jaime Lannister and the constant arguments between Robert and...well...anyone brave enough to stand up to him really. So why does five minutes of Robb being unreasonable cause tears to well in my eyes and a hard lump to form in my throat?

Outside of the stuffy castle my problems seem to lessen, the cold light of day is the best thing for revealing the truth of matters. I mull over the situation as I step out into the courtyard. It is a clear, crisp day and like a fine wine it should be savoured. I breath in slowly and deeply, letting myself adjust to the cooler air for a moment and then press on. I tilt my head to let the weak sunlight illuminate my face and wrap the shawl around myself. I now know the route to the Godswood here better than I know how to get to the Godswood in King's Landing so I quickly make my way over to the meeting place, I can even pick out my footprints in the snow from a day or two ago.

There is a small group of people in the clearing; Maester Luwin, with his long chain looped around his neck, ser Rodrik, a forked beard adorning his chin as usual, Catelyn, who finally has a spark back in her eyes again after so long spent mourning, and Theon. What is he doing here? I demand and shoot Catelyn a wide eyed plea for answers. Surely it makes as little sense as sending an enemy your battle plans for a Greyjoy to be part of a secret meeting, Robb may believe that his father's ward is as good as his brother but I have my reservations. Blood will out. I think grimly and decide to ask Maester Luwin to keep an eye on him when I've left. I take my place next to Catelyn and the old Maester and wait. Catelyn looks a little concerned that her son has not accompanied me and clearly expected for Robb to be with me. She looks a unsure and inquires about the whereabouts of her son but I just shrug my shoulders and try to stop my inner anger from souring my expression. Eventually we hear footsteps and Robb arrives, he wears his serious expression like a mask, I'm grudgingly respecting the control he is showing. He looks a little like he is grinding his teeth but other than that the Stark is keeping his anger to himself quite well. However, the acute senses of a mother must have picked up on at least some of the emotions raging in both our heads. A smirk flits across Catelyn's face when she notices us avoiding each other's eyes.

With a small cough to clear her throat the purpose of this meeting is revealed to us:

"What I am about to tell you must remain between us. I don't think Bran fell from that tower. I think he was thrown." Catelyn explains, her words confirm my suspicion on what this meeting is about.

"The boy was always surefooted before." Maester Luwin points out.

"Someone tried to kill him twice, why? Why murder an innocent child? Unless he saw something he wasn't meant to see."

"Saw what My Lady?" Theon asks the question on everybody's minds.

"I don't know but I would stake my life the Lannisters are involved. We already have reason to suspect their loyalty to the crown." they are my family by law and though I do not particularly like the twins Tyrion is not a bad person, but neither is he good.

"I do not doubt your judgement Catelyn, but I do not think that Tyrion would be able to do such a thing, and Cersei, she is cold but killing a child... That's not her." I reason, leaving out Jaime, the blonde knight is a somewhat hazy figure.

"Can I look at the dagger the killer used?" asks the Master at Arms, ser Rodrik.

"Of course. It is Valyrian steel and dragonbone, not to mention the engravings and gold." I describe it for everyone who hasn't seen it, ser Rodrik seems to agree with my assessment of the weapon and nods.

"It's too fine a weapon for such a man. Someone gave it to him." I had deduced that when I first saw it yesterday, it is that fact that makes me uneasy.

"But what fool would do that?" I ask, in my mind it is clear that the dagger was given to the assassin on purpose, to confuse us.

Robb is the next to speak, and when he does he displays a similar anger as he did a few minutes ago in the solar: "They come into our home and try to murder my brother. If it's war they want-"

"If it comes to that you know I'll stand behind you." Theon jumps in. They have the foolish tempers of young men, they are too quick to anger, and they do not know what damage simple words can do.

"What? Is there going to be a battle in the Godswood?" Maester Luwin chastises the young men. "Too easily words of war become acts of war. We don't know the truth yet." I sense that the Maester has a similar feeling to me on that issue, there is not yet enough evidence to do anything. I can help more in King's Landing in that regard. "Lord Stark must be told of this."

"I don't trust a raven to carry these words." I'm just about to suggest myself for this task, after all it makes sense, when Robb cuts over me.

"I'll ride to King's Landing." I glare at him for what was admittedly an accident and grit my teeth, my fury has not diffused at all and I am still livid.

"No, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I will go myself." Catelyn is a strong woman and I do not doubt her resolve.

"Mother you can't." Robb protests.

"I must." I've made up my mind now and step forward.

"Catelyn-" I start to stay but then, as if to spite me further Robb buts in again.

"Velena?" his anger towards me seems to have disappeared, and he looks at me almost pleadingly. I swallow, knowing what I have to do.

"I can ride with you my Lady." I say, forcing back the regret that has risen in me like bile. Robb looks at me, his light blue eyes fixed on mine. I look away, I can't stand it. Our argument feels like ancient history as I nervously glance at the young lord, who doesn't really look 'young' anymore, I realise.

"Very well, it will be good to have a companion." I'm snapped back to reality by Catelyn's words, and agree quickly.

"I'll send Hal with a squad of guardsmen to escort you both." I stare at the floor, trying to force back my emotions.

"Too large a party attracts unwanted attention. I don't want the Lannisters to know we're coming." Robb doesn't have anything to say and seems to be absorbed in studying a tree a few feet away from him.

"Let me accompany you at least. The Kingsroad can be a dangerous place for women." Once I would have laughed at that and pointed out that I was dangerous enough to keep myself safe but now I just stand there and let the comprehension wash over me.

"What about Bran and Rickon?" the Stark asks.

"I have prayed to the Seven for more than a month. Bran's life is in their hands now." Catelyn has finally let go, taken her emotions out of the equation, I can learn so much from her. I really do need to learn to think without letting my feelings get in the way, that's how I came to be in this mess in the first place.

xoxox

Slowly the small group disperses until it is just Catelyn, Robb and me. Catelyn gives me a thankful smile and a quick hug and departs. Then it is just Robb and me. There is a long pause and I take a tentative step closer.

"I'm sorry." we say together. He laughs and I see a small twinkle in his captivating eyes.

"I hope you didn't break anything expensive." I joke and gesture for us to walk towards the heart tree. He looks apologetic and starts to say something. "It was wrong of me to get so angry." I cut in.

"I think that we are both too hot headed and stubborn for our own good." he muses.

"Yes, but I didn't descend to throwing bottles around, did I?" my statement is dripping with sarcasm as I smirk and look competitively into his face. I am quite tall and Robb is only half a head taller than me but he uses his height to his advantage and seems to tower over me for a few seconds. I stand my ground and wait for him to say something.

"You make me so..." he trails off and continues walking.

"Angry?" I supply and smile, thinking about how we both inspire these emotions in each other.

"Sometimes." Robb is completely serious and he looks at the ground for a while and I sense that the simple word has more meaning than he is letting on. I shrug nonchalantly and rub my hands together for warmth. There is another long pause as we draw closer to the red and silver tree.

"You really mean to return to King's Landing, don't you?" his helpless tone touches a nerve and a darker expression flashes across my face.

"It is time for me to go Robb. You can look after Winterfell, I know it, your parents know it. Why don't you?" I ask.

"I know I am a good lord here but I need you." he replies, his eyes wide and sincere.

"Robb, don't be silly." I say and flap my hand in a dismissive motion. He precedes to pull off his gloves and gives them to me, despite my fervent assurances that I don't need them. This gentlemanly action just infuriates me further. "What do you think you're doing?" I demand as I push the gloves back to him and attempt to storm off.

"Velena! Wait!" he calls. I'm now heartily sick of any physical contact between us, it makes me feel on edge and gives me the shivers so when he puts his hand on my shoulder I feel like slapping him. "I need to know...Why do you want to leave?" the Lord of Winterfell again sounds like the boy I once knew and my face softens.

"I don't," I admit "but what reason do I have to stay?" I ask more quietly and turn away slightly, the intensity of those eyes is more than I can handle. He steps closer, like a wolf stalking its prey. I back away, a little intimidated by the fire in his eyes, until I'm pressed against the heart tree. I wonder what he is doing, he has lowered his face to mine and seems to be looking into my eyes then at my lips and then up again.

"You have me." he whispers, I gasp, I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. I put my hands on his chest in a move to push him away if necessary but nothing gives and I can feel his solid muscles beneath the leather jerkin. My brain does not have any idea what is happening, I can virtually hear it whiring. My body is also similarly tense and any tiny breeze causes a flutter of nerves. I am just about to demand, using many long words and titles, that he move out of my way but before I see it coming Robb has collided his lips with mine. I suddenly go to the opposite of a few seconds ago; instead of not being able to react and just thinking I react completely on instinct and throw caution to the wind. I kiss him back. His soft lips are a contrast to the light stubble on his chin, it tickles my cheeks gently and almost makes me laugh. He slips both arms around my waist and pulls me closer, his body is warm and strangely comforting. I twist my fingers through his red brown hair and deepen the kiss. These bottled up emotions have suddenly burst forth in an unstoppable wave of passion. I didn't know how much I needed this until it happened, the events of the last weeks suddenly make sense. All I know is this moment, no past, no future. Unfortunately we have to break off this outpouring of emotion because of our human need for air. I suck in a long breath and then laugh like the dizzy, elated woman I am. I gaze up into those icy eyes, now they seem warmer than a summer day.

"So will you stay?" of all the things he has to ask it is this that he chooses: The one question that I have no answer to.

I know that I should go. I want, more than anything else in the world, to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Finally! Yay, romance!  
> I hope that you don't mind the cliffhanger, but hey I get to be a bit evil every so often! What did you all think of that? I'd love to hear so please leave a comment!


End file.
